Keep It Classy, Patterson...

I am currently sitting on my couch, watching my favorite movie, drinking a PBR tall boy, a mini bottle of Patron (keeping it classy) and wondering how I'm single. Clearly I'm a total catch. Which leads me to believe that it MIGHT not be me that is the problem. It may be that all the men in the world have a skewed view on what a fabulous woman is. Just because I drink cheap beer (from a can), refuse to wear pants (unless social situations deem it necessary) and use the word (or some form of the word) 'fuck' as a verb, noun, adjective, conjunction, participle...(ok, maybe not that last one, but you get the point), doesn't mean I can't get all dressed up, put on pants (or a fancy dress on occasion), watch my mouth and drink red wine.

I have drawn the conclusion that men of my age are pussies. And I am an exceptional speciman of the female species. Any of you bitches would be lucky to have a fine woman like myself.

But what do I know.

 

Stay classy, Patterson

 

 

 

I make this look good

Advice Is Like Snow...

"Advice is like snow-the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon and the deeper it sinks into the mind." -Unknown

It snowed tonight. It was the first of the season. The wet, sticky kind that would stick if the earth were cold enough to let it. Instead it melted as it hit the pavement. I was at work talking with my GM and a few other employees when I noticed the flakes falling outside. For the very briefest and fleeting of moments I thought about the silence that seems to befall the world when it snows. It's as if all the night's noises are muffled by the pillow of snow. And then I thought about how the most audible of sounds at that time is the splash of cars' tires as they push their way down the road through the slush. That led me to thinking about endless months of cold and wet and blah. All these thoughts passed through my head in seconds...then I reached for my phone to call you. My hand didn't even make it half way to it before I stopped and remembered you wouldn't answer.

On my way home from work an hour later, I called you anyway, like I do every year. Even though I knew you wouldn't answer, I just wanted to hear your voice on your message. And then it hit me. I haven't cried in a while when remembering you. I think of you every day and I miss you all the time. And it often makes me sad. But I haven't cried. Tonight I did and it was overwhelming.

I miss you, Dad. Sitting here typing this, I am thinking about all the memories I have of you that involve snow. Sledding at the Prior Lake house down that big ass hill, then later at VA when we were older. I can remember you teaching me to make snowballs. I can still see your hands packing the snow together, showing me just how it's done to create the ultimate sting. I remember all the times you'd arrive home from work and my brother and sister and I would be too consumed in building snowmen to notice you'd pulled in the driveway. It wasn't until we were being ambushed and bombarded with snowballs that we even realized you were there.

I have always felt like I have this empty place in my heart, Dad. When you died it quadrupled in size. I have no idea how to begin to close that hole. I know I'll never fill it, but I think repair is possible, to some extent. The thing I find myself missing most often are our talks. Never very long, but always so full of thought, love and honest advice. I miss talking to you everyday, multiple times a day, more than anything I've ever missed. Sometimes I miss our talks as much as I imagine I would miss my right arm if I suddenly lost it in some tragic turn of events. This last 2 days alone I have wanted YOUR advice and thoughts on things at work, at home with the kids, men in my life, my car, future education I may one day seek more enthusiastically...the list continues.

My life will probably never be the same. I can't honestly say it would be more bearable had you died as an old man instead of the young one you were. I think I would still feel the same things as deeply as I do and with as many years between your death and now. I can't stop missing our talks. I love you, dad. And I miss you. All the time.

TWM...Accepting What Is...

"It can be scary to find out you've been wrong about something. But we can't be afraid to change our minds, to accept that things are different...that they'll never be the same-for better or for worse. We have to be willing to give up what we use to believe. The more we're willing to accept what is and not what we thought...we'll find ourselves exactly where we belong." -Meredith

I had so many intentions of posting tonight and so many things flooding my thoughts...I just wan't sure how to voice them. And then I went to check on my babies just now, before crawling into bed myself. I kissed them each on the head, ran my fingers through their hair and pulled the covers up tight around all three of their perfect little chins. Upon doing so, my youngest reached out into the night's air and struggled as if he were trying to wrap his sweet arms around someone that wasn't within his grasp. I kissed his head and said, 'I love you, Bubby'. He replied, totally asleep, 'I love you, too'.

I've never been more sure of my existence.

My cup more than runneth over.

Happy Thanksgiving, bitches!!! Part Dos...

With Thanksgiving day officially less than 25 minutes away (and I am sure I will be just as far into it by the time I finish this post) and being as disatisfied with my life as I currently am, I began reflecting on last year. One year ago. The growth I've made as a person, a mom and a single woman. The things I wanted then versus the things I want now. How much care and effort I put into achieving those things now and how little I did then. How separation of and balance of the two roles, as mom and woman, have gained some perspective and individualism in my mind and actions.

Last year I wrote about how difficult the holidays were without my dad and spoke briefly about how each of my family members were dealing with that grief. I was snuggling with the kids and watching my Cowgirls play their version of football. I was cooking, grilling and baking. My brother had locked hiself in his room, refusing to socialize with anyone (not far off from his normal behaviors, I might add). My sister was with her boyfriend's family, I believe. My grandmother hadn't made it to our house yet and my mom was going about the day as if it were any other. It was my first holiday at all without my husband. I was content. At peace. Trying to find direction and purpose, but OK with that. I was taking baby steps.

This year will again be difficult. Differences in opinions on every topic under the moon have left family life so unbearable that I now don't have one with which to spend the holiday. I will most likely be alone for a large portion of the day. I was invited to the parental home of the man I recently ended a relationship with. While he and all of his family are kind, compassionate individuals whose company I usually enjoy, I don't think I want to go. I have too much sadness in my heart regarding the holidays and I know how important family time is to him that I don't want to be made to be the bitch because I'm simply missing my own family life and my own traditions.

What I really want to do, ideally, is spend the day playing games with my kids. Laughing. Laughing A LOT. Until my gut hurts and tears are rolling down my cheeks. And I want to watch movies that make me laugh. I want to watch my Cowgirls play their version of football. I want to watch Trains, Planes and Automobiles. I want to curl up on the couch with a happy little buzz at the end of the night with my head craddled  nicely in the lap of a man who loves me and who's silence I can enjoy being in. I want things I don't have right now. And I'm tired of waiting. Of playing games. I just want things to...work.

So, while so many of my young friends are out acting like a bunch of fucking retards for the day of the year known as 'black-out Wednesday', I'm at home, alone, writing, reflecting and watching Liar Liar in an attempt to laugh the negativity and self sorrow out. I don't know what I will do tomorrow. This is the first year I haven't known what dinner will be and what dishes I will be preparing. This year will be so different from any other. And while I have a very love/hate relationship with change, when it gets to be too much, I need my routine. My tradition.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring any more than I know what next week will bring. Work, motherhood, womanhood, life in general is a fucking crap shoot for me anymore. I don't like it. I want stability. A regular pay check. Normal home routine. A steady yet unpredictable and exciting man. I don't feel like I'm asking for the world, yet I think that just may be what I want.

Happy Thanksgiving, bitches!

WTF, brain?

I have spent entirely too much of my time thinking lately. About anything and everything. It's as if my mind has become a safe haven for the rejected thoughts of others and they're all swirling around in my head, bumping into each other and occasionally spitting themselves out of my mouth in verbage that may or may not make any sense to anyone that happens to be within earshot.

For instance, these are the thoughts currently running through my head:

I need to buy Drano for the bathroom sink-Emma and I lose entirely too much hair and that drain is just, well, simply put its fucked.

What is the difference REALLY between the 16GB Galaxy 3S and the 32GB...and if you answer 16GBs, I'll punch you in the throat. With a chair.

Holy shit, this coffee is effing hot!

I wonder if that bastard in the Obama sweatshirt looked at my ballot at the polls today. Sneeky fucker.

I've had 3 friends, all men, stop talking to me all of a sudden. What the hell is up with THAT? I'm awesome as shit. They must have all had strokes or something happen that left them incapable of using a phone. That has to be it.

I don't know if I like being a red head as much as I thought I would. I think it uglified my already questionable attractivness.

I hope Pervy Perverson from work last night that made about 546 comments about my body gets run over by a stampede of flaming homosexuals. I don't know why they'd be stampeding, but thats definitely irrelevant here.

How many bitches will I have to slap to get silverware rolled at work tonight? And what is that thing Jess said I have to tell them? GTB? GTL? I don't know. Why can't I keep up with pop-culture?

Am I going to be alone forever because I am so consistantly restless and always questioning my choices in men. life and parenting? Or will it be because while I'm awesome when hiding behind my computer screen, I'm full of insecurities and see only my flaws when face to face with the male species?

8 weeks from today I will be in St. Louis with my family and I am so freaking excited I MIGHT briefly lose control of my undersized bladder!!!

I wonder how much of my stuff my ex-husband rifled through when he brought my kids home to my house last night before my friend showed up to watch them...did he find all the drugs, pornographic pictures, loaded firearms and mini meth lab I hid???

And that's the randomness my brain has been on the last few days. I know. I read through it all again before I clicked 'publish' and just shook my head, too.

Freezing My Sheballs Off...

Learning the ropes of the single life has been...an adventure for me. I don't like to jump from man to man. I'm simply not that person. I'm more focused on finding a truly compatiable person and loving him enough to want to work, if necessary, to maintain the relationship. That said, there are some things I simply CANNOT live without and one of them is warmth. I am so fucking cold tonight, and for the last few nights, that if a man came to me with a cock that was on fire and could only be used a source of actual warmth with zero sexual inclinations, I would be his forever. The female body does a lot of extraordinary things. We grow humans, for Christ's sake. We maintain TWO heart beats for 9 months at a time. Our bodies were built for phenomonal things...so why is it men are so warm ALL. THE. TIME. and our core temp is like, -154 degrees?

Some day, when I'm Queen Sheballs, I will fix that issue.

TWM...Knowing Yourself...

"It might be hard for a surgeon to admit, but there's no shame in simply being human. It can be a relief to stop hiding, to accept who you really are and let the world see you that way, too. A little self awareness never hurt anybody. Because when you know who you are its easier to know what you're about and ultimately, what you really need." -Meredith

"When you know who you are its easier to know what you're about and ultimately, what you really need."...well isn't that EXACTLY what I've been saying the last year or so???

Do WHAT?...

There have been so many songs I've wished a man would either write about me or a man would profess his love for me through because while my sheballs are big and steel and awesome, I still posess a uterus and all the hormones that come along with it (ie; I've birthed 3 children and I weep like a 12 year old girl from time to time). Sadly, I've never been blessed enough to live with a musician that wasn't a self absorbed sibling. And I had one man for 10 of my 28years. He never professed his lyrical love of my awesomeness. Then I met a man that did. While he and I are no longer together, this was one of the last heart felt things he sent to me. It's amazingly poetic and so appreciated by me. I hope you find the happiness in it that I did.

Now like a bird
She flew away
To chase her dreams
Of books and praise
Still I miss her
Yeah I miss her
Since she's gone
At JFK
Who played the fool?
Self pitty sick
Jet fuel perfume
Still I miss her
Yeah I miss her
Since she's gone
Girl I want to die with you
In each others arms
We'll drown in flame
If this time were the last time
Could i hold you all life long?
Since this time is the last time
Can I hold you all night long?
Lay your head down for the last time
Do you still love me?
Still I miss her
Yeah I miss her
Since she's gone
And yes, Dad. My sheballs are present...hormonally swollen, but still here. So fuck off and I love youl

TWM...Not Settling...

When we follow our hearts, when we choose not to settle, it's funny isn't it?...a weight lifts, the sun shines a little brighter...and for a brief moment at least, we find a little peace. -Meredith

I'm Tired of Coming Up With Titles That I Think Generally Suck Anyway So Have Fun With This AWESOME Post Where I Say Something Mildly Smart...

Relationships take work. At least that's what I'm told. And I do believe it...to some extent. I would agree that in order to make any relationship work (whether it be a friendship, relationship with a co-worker or one in a potential spouse), there must be compromise, understanding and the abilty to just let some things go. In order for a relationship with a spousal-type-person to work, however, there has to be an undying love present. Something where at the end of the day it just doesn't matter who is right or wrong.. Something where the love out weighs the stubborness and pride and those things are replaced with understanding and respect. I think when a relationship reaches a point where that scale is tipping the other way, its time to re-evaluate. A relationship shouldn't be in a state of constant stress. It shouldn't be THAT much work.

I came home today and there was little trace that you'd ever even existed as a part of my life. Your shelf was cleaned out in the closet. All the piles of your laundry were missing from the stacks that were scattered on the floor. No one would ever notice, but I knew they were gone. There's an empty spot on the top shelf of my closet where your Guitar Hero instruments had sat. I walked into the bathroom and the drawer that had your toothbrush, hair product and cologne were gone. Seeing your things gone struck me in a way that made me inhale and quickly catch my breath. In that moment I caught a whiff of your cologne. And it made my heart hurt. I walked back into my bedroom and looked around. I saw my robe laying on my bed, just as I'd left it. I looked at it and wondered if you'd even picked it up to smell the collar, which I know holds the scent of my shampoo and perfume, or was exiting my life easy for you? I looked at my pillow hoping you'd left whatever tshirt you'd been wearing when you cleared your things from my home so that I could sleep in it. Smell it. Close my eyes and imagine you here. But you hadn't. Suddenly I felt so exhausted, alone and vulnerable. I unzipped my jeans, slid them off and grabbed a blanket off the couch. I buried my face into a pillow and slept for three hours this afternoon, in a ball, on my couch. When I awoke it was dark outside and as I blinked the distorted figures around me into focus, I found myself looking for you.

This isn't easy for me. I know it's right, right now, but it certainly isn't easy. And I hope it isn't as easy for you as you make it look. To think I meant anything less than everything to you after all you said breaks my heart. I hope, too, that if we do come to be again in the future, that we can be the best versions of ourselves for each other.

I just saw your key laying by the door. The exhaustion I felt earlier is back. My body aches and the last thing I want to do is crawl into my bed without you tonight. I feel like you don't even notice I'm missing.

TWM...Losing...

Well tonight's episode pissed me off. It was lame, uninspirational, predictable and ridiculously pathetic. As I watch a clip of one of my favorite characters, who was killed off tonight, rock his newborn infant in the dark, I pray it ends with a decent conclusion from Meredith. If not, I'll be listening to Dancing In The Dark and thinking about my dad as I fall asleep tonight (story for another day).

"You never really stop feeling the loss. It's what makes things so bittersweet. We leave little bits of ourselves behind...little reminders...a lifetime of memories, phontos, trinkets...things to rember us by. Even when we're gone."

This show kills me with its relevance to my emotional state...regardless of when I happen to catch an episode.

Happy Season 9, bitches!!!

Love Shouldn't Be Anything Less Than Lightning In A Bottle...

"The biggest human temptation is to settle for too little."

I came across this today while reading quotes on destiny and love, ideas I have long doubted have any business being used in respect to one another. It seems to me, and this is just my thought process on the fly here, that IF there is one person out there that is truly 'perfect' for you (and I use that term very loosely here. Nobody is perfect. We all know that.) and that is meant to be that you would just...know it. It would be a feeling that was instant. Overwhelming. Like being struck by lightening. I don't mean love at first sight, because that's crap. But I would think it would happen fairly soon after spending some time together. That there would be enough similarities, likes, interest, laughs, physical attrativeness to set that voice of God off in your head that screams, 'HEY!!! This is the person I created for you! To fit you! To walk through life with you and love you the way I meant for people to love one another. Love him back, cherish him, hold him and be grateful you found him!'

I feel like if that something in my brain doesn't go off, then I am settling for something that isn't everything. And I vowed to never do that after my divorce. It isn't that I can't buckle down and give myself to someone. I know I can. I want all the pieces to fit, even if there are a few rough edges. I want be on fire for someone all the way. I've never had that feeling, though. I loved my husband, but it never felt totally fullfilling. I love a lot of things about the man I am with now, but again, I feel something is missing there, too. I don't mean disatisfaction with my life, either. I mean the relationships specifically. I think that if the relationship is meant to be, the other crap is weatherable together.

So I am spending a lot of time lately wondering about this concept of 'love and destiny'. My cousin is getting married 2wks from today. I know her story. I know her history with men in general and with this man she's going to spend the rest of her life with. Since I do know all that, I do believe that this man is actually the one. I know what they've sacrificed to be together. They spent YEARS half a country apart, dated other people and had given up on finding love. Then love brought them back together. I LOVE their story. I admire it. I even envy it. I believe in it whole heartedly. So I guess it does happen. I just haven't gotten to it yet for myself.

Willing to Jump...

I've always been someone who lacks clarity and direction. Of course, the times people in my life have attempted to guide me in any direction, I always went the opposite way. I guess I always believed that even in taking the path I chose myself I would end up happy, content and feel an abundance of love and satisfaction with my life. I always believed that living without definity to my expectations would lead me to a place of extreme happiness. This isn't to say that I don't believe life is what we make it and that we possess some control over our destiny. We obviously make certain choices that impact our life in big ways and we all deal with unforseeable strife's the best we know how. What I'm talking about are the things we don't control. The things that just fall into our lives. Things such as friends and love. The place our passions lie in our work and the unexpected ways in which we discover these things. 

After racking my brain for quite some time trying to find the words to say what I am really feeling here, I finally found solace in a Randy Pausch quote. (Those of you that don't know who Randy is, I suggest finding out and reading his Last Lecture. Or watching it. It was viral on YouTube some years ago.)

“Follow your passions, believe in karma, and you won't have to chase your dreams, they will come to you.”  (Randy Pausch 2007)

I have been struggling to decide what I want to do with my life. Going back to school sits in my head, not because I necessarily WANT to go to school, but because it seems like the right thing to do. The problem is, I hate sitting in class. I hate being lectured. I get bored sooooo quickly in that type of setting. I am definitely a kinesthetic learner. Maybe I suffer from some minor sort of ADD but I go absolutely bonkers if I have to sit in one place too long.

Its a miracle I survived the minor stint I did behind a desk. I was there precisely one winter and the follwing spring before I quit for something more hands on. I made great money there and they offerend all the grown up benefits-full medical, dental, vision, 401k. Shit. They even offered insurance for your dog or cat. I got bonuses each pay check for performing over what was expected of me. I hated the job though. There is nothing more boring that entering information into a computer for 8 hours straight. And forget about the days I worked overtime. I wanted desperately to kill myself on more than one occasion.

I thought once I had kids that being a stay at home mom and wife was going to be the thing that made me happy. And being the mom did and still does. As much as I despise housework, it was a small price to pay for the joy of being home with my kids all day, watching all 3 of them start walking, hearing the first time they said 'momma' and later 'love you'. I got to spend my days outside in the spring, summer and fall. I had a garden. I got to spend time practicing my favorite hobby-cooking. I woke up to their sweet faces every morning, ran to their calls for comfort in the middle of the night and when they were sick, my lap was the only place they wanted to be. That last part is still true. It was the wife part that didn't work out so well. I wanted to be someone's wife. Loved. Partnered with. We all know how that ended.

So now here I am. Back to work. Not wanting to wait tables the rest of my life, but I like my job. I enjoy being there. I despised bartending when I first started it. Now I thouroughly enjoy it and look forward to the one shift a week I get to be back there. I don't know if this is a place where I will move up and better my life. I do know that right now, it's all I have. I feel like this job found me. It's funny, but it's something I WANT to do well at. Something I actually care about when I walk into work everyday. While I know I'll never get rich doing it, that isn't something I ever really needed. I, like most other moms, just want to provide for my family a comfortable and sustaining lifestyle.

As I have opportunites opening up to me, I am petrified. I don't want to fail, but I know that if I don't throw my sheballs out there with the risk of losing them completely, I will never go anywhere. Ever. I definitely don't want that. I don't want my kids to see me the way I see me right now. I want them to respect the choices I've made and see the fight that I know I posess in me somewhere. I just have to find confindence, which is something I lack. It's building, though, with help from the few people that believe in me and my ability to succeed.

I think that a lot of my 'belief that things will work out' mentality comes more from a deep seeded lack of confidence. It's more of a 'fear that I will completely fail and be humiliated' mentality. I think in the past it has kept me from even trying. Fear is a funny thing like that. It can take over who you thought you were and break you down into someone you never knew even lived inside of you. It was real easy to live that way when I had a husband to hide behind. His income to fall back on. I no longer have that, so I need to really man-up here. Even if I fail, I will know it wasn't because I was too afraid to try. Sometimes it's just a leap of faith. But you have to be willing to jump.

Rolling in the Deep...

Today would be my 7 year wedding anniversary. Last Friday marked the 1 year anniversary of the day I told my now ex-husband that I wanted a divorce. This whole month has been a whirl wind of emotions for me. It started with my birthday on the 3rd, which is always a difficult day for me since my dad died. Then I got injured at work a week later. Then the boyfriend and I encountered some issues I wasn't sure we were going to recover from. Fortunately, we have much better communication and understanding between us than was ever present in my marriage. I think the lack of those 2 things was a direct factor as to why our marriage ended when it did. I don't want to go on a big emotional Dennis-Miller-style rant about the ways my heart has broken over the crumbling of my marriage to the man I hoped to love forever. I will say this to him because I know he checks my blog, or use to, and may read this.
                        
Remember when I told you after we split up that I never loved you the way I believed people are suppose to love? I know you took that to heart and I know you took it not in the way I intended it. I believe you took that to mean that over 10 years I never loved you at all. I did. With my whole heart. I was full of love and passion for you and for us. I never felt that out of you, though. I feel that when 2 people really love each other, those things need to be forever present and present in such a strong, deeply connected way that at the end of the day, there really is nothing that can tear you apart. We lacked that. We are both too stubborn and too proud. That's on both of us. I'm just the one that chose to accept it for that. It wasn't with a light heart that I moved on. At all. It didn't have the same immediate effect on  me initially following our separation. It's hitting me now and has been since June 19.

So. Knowing all that...here is the only song that has been playing in my head over the last few months.

The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless
I can't help feeling
We could have had it all

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*I'd also like to note here to someone that will definitely take notice if he watches the video: Yes, I noticed the ninja and yes, I realize how important the drum part of this song is to driving the emotion behind the lyrics home.*

Perpetually Unsatisfied...

Satisfaction-Fulfillment of one's wishes, expectations, or needs, or the pleasure derived from this.

I started a post recently that I never published about the perpetually miserable people of the world. I have never considered myself a miserable person. I find joy in most every part of life and while I have had enough of my own crap to deal with, as we all do, I tend to find the silver lining. Granted I haven't always been like this. I was once a teenager. I attribute my coming around simply to coming of age.

That said...there are people out there that are miserable and while I feel badly, I know they create their own misery. What about those of us that simply wish for more? Those of us that feel life has so much to offer and we want to soak up every ounce of it, even if it means missing out on something that could be lasting and indefintely fullfilling?

I think that there is a huge difference in being miserable and being unsatisfied. I feel I am one of God's favorites. His perpetually unsatisfied. I believe my dad was, too, and I have a few friends that I think fit into this category as well. I don't think this means we are eternally unsatisfied because we have a "the grass is greener on the other side" attitude about things. I think it stems more from a place that believes life has more to give us than we've been able to find. And that is what the search is all about.

I think the people like me are the people that have always, as long as can be remembered, had a void in their soul. One that has always been very much felt. The question that has been burning in my mind lately is not WHAT fills that void-I think it can be a number of things; a relationship, a job, a hobby...anything, but what I want to know is HOW to fill the void. I thought it could be done by taking risks, living life and experiencing pain. I still believe these are all steps in the process. But what else? Is there more? Is that void capable of being filled at all or is it an endless, exhausting journey that leaves us forever perpetually unsatisfied? I wonder if the satisfaction we seek is found after death. But that is an entirely different level of questioning that I'm not ready to delve into quite yet.

For now...I need to choose a career path.

Suggestions?

Dear Husband,

Yes, I still refer to you as Husband here. I tucked our baby's into bed tonight and as I kissed each of their beautiful heads all I saw was you. Emma's attitude and ability to stab with her tongue comes from you. Her random sweetness when she says things like, "Momma, you're my destiny", also comes from you. She's inquisitive...never misses a thing. And ballsy. That is aaaaallll me.


Ryan's inability to communicate comes from you. His way of venting frustration, hurt and anger; the very way he FEELS life is from me. It amazes me that our two biggest battles with each other completely make up his way of doing things.

Logey. He sleeps like me, he thinks like me, his sarcasm, humor and love of life comes from me. I know this. But I'll be God damned if that boy has a single feature that makes him look anything like me. He is olive toned and looks like a freaking Mexican come July. He gets that from you. He sleeps like me-on his belly, one leg up, clutching his pillow...he snores like you.

I'm sad that our marriage didn't last. I'm so happy we loved enough to create these three little people together, though. They are so amazing and they remind me in the ways they're like you, why I fell in love with you all those years ago. Sometimes I miss you. Sometimes I miss the way you hugged me. I always felt so safe in those moments. Sometimes I can't believe we're really divorced. I think about the things I miss about you, though. And everything I miss is the friendship we had. We never had a great marriage...we lacked so much in that. We had a friendship. A really good one. That's what I miss. You really were my best friend for over a decade.

The last thing dad said to me before he died was, "Life has a funny way of working out, KB". Remember? And he told you, "Do right by those kids, Pat". I think both those things are coming to fruition. I just wish it was easier.

A Random Moment of Clarity...

A lot of people seem to think that the key to healing after a major life event is finding reason for and place to throw blame. I don't think this at all. While I am fully aware of my husband's shortcomings in our marriage, its my own I am trying to recognize, accept and change from. I believe a large part of healing is learning to accept your faults and flaws and learn to love yourself despite them. Possibly because of them. Most certainly the final stage is learning from the mistakes and then making the necessary changes to become a fuller, wiser, more characteristically reliable person because of them.

Shit I'll Never Do...Otherwiwse Known As A Bucket List To All You "Shiny" People Out There...

A work in progress, as I assume most bucket list's are over the course of a lifetime.

1. Complete a marathon
2. Learn to sail and then sail to the Mediterranean and spend an undetermined amount of time living on my  boat over there.
3. Travel. All over. A few places include: Ireland, Germany, Alaska, Japan, Hawaii, remote islands of the Caribbean.
4. Swim with Great Whites. In a cage, duh. 
5. Oh and if it can be with the SharkMen, even better. Also want to do the research they do. It is just so damn cool.
6. Inspire at least one of my kids to do something exceptional with their life.
7. Learn to shoot a handgun with amazing accuracy and look fantastically sexy while doing so. Like in a leather body suit with thigh high boots. I realize this last part may be impossible, but a girl can wish!
8. Live on a beach for the majority of my years. Which probably means I should move...yesterday. So I guess this one is not happening, but whatever. I still want to live on the beach. For a long time. In fact, it is most definitely the place I wish to die. Probably on one of the beaches I discover completing number 2.
9. Open and run a successful 'mom and pop' restaurant. I will have one or two house specialties, but my main menu will be, "Take it or leave it". I will decide daily what I will be serving. Hopefully people will find the idea clever and unique and not actually leave it...leaving me bankrupt and suicidal.
10. Attend culinary school. This has nothing to do with number 9. Its just something I really want to do.
11. Find a man that loves me in the way I know I need to be loved. Or not. I'm not committing this to being something I truly want to happen. I don't know. Don't ask me.
12. A bucket list is a list of things one wishes to do before one dies, correct? The term 'things' is used very loosely, I would assume? So for the 'thing' filling spot 12? Mike Rowe. You saw that one comin', huh?
13. Bake a cake. Perfectly. Lemon flavored.
14. Drive an Indy car. 
15. Visit all 50 states. 
16. Drive old Route 66.
17.  Eat a meal prepared by Anthony Bourdain. I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass what you think about it!
18. Graduate college.
19. Take a cross country road trip. By myself. 
20. See a baseball game in the Green Monster. It won't be there forever!
21. Stay at the Palmer House and the Drake in the winter. Then lay in bed all day and order one of everything off the room service menu.
22. Chase a tornado. Even though they terrify me.
23. Learn to cut hair...well.
24. Drastically change my hair color and live as a blonde and a red head for a few months each. 
25. Invent teleportation. I'm this||close. Seriously.
26. Meet my top 5 favorite Tweeters all at once. THAT will be a party of truly epic proportions.
27. Skip every holiday for a year. At least Christmas and Thanksgiving. Travel somewhere exotic instead...like a Peruvian jungle or some shit like that.

Independence!...

Every once in a while someone comes into your life and the time they spend there, however brief it may be, changes you. I think a large part of our existence is learning when to recognize these occurences so that one day when the right person comes into our life, we grab on and don't let them go. My prayer for myself is that I can let go and get out of my head so I recognize that.

Happy Independence Day, bitches. I know I am celebrating mine!

Cry Love...

Back in March I started this post. After talking to a friend today I decided to finish it.

A moment of steel
A dry-eyed house
Did he say goodbye to you
Or did you kick him out

When I couldn't find a way to make you love me the way I deserve to be loved, I dug very deep down, after years of trying and many months of contemplating, and I asked (again) for a divorce. I don't feel I kicked you out. I feel you quit on our marriage and on loving me long before it came to that point. Even once I made the final push and told you I was finally done, you didn't even try to keep me around.

I know you're not afraid
To go alone
But this was a marriage of spirit, flesh, and bone

My love for you was very real. Very true. Very deep. I wanted to be everything to you that you were to me. I had my entire heart beating for you. For our life. For our marriage. I never, ever, felt you loved me that way. I felt that way because of your neglect of me on anything other than a very surface level. So I was always emotionally and physically alone.

Now whatcha gonna do
When the planet shifts
Whatcha gonna do
Gonna slit your wrists
Bleed all over the milky way
The stars in your eyes look red today

I spent a lot of years very depressed because I couldn't figure out why you didn't love me. Why I wasn't worthy of being treated like a princess. Why wasn't I enough? Where did I fall short that when I said it was over, you wouldn't even try to love me better???

Cry love, cry love
The tears of an angel
The tears of a dove
Spilling all over, your heart from above
Cry love, cry love


I feel like it was all a joke. Like the little boy that cried, 'Wolf!'. Was any part of it real? You acted as if this was all so easy for me. I never wanted a failed marriage. I wanted a man to love me.

The trust of a woman in his hand
But he was a little boy, not a man
You loved him stronger than he could feel
Yeah he was wrapped up in himself like an orange peel

I walked down the aisle with you and I gave you my heart, my love and my trust. And you abused it. You neglected it. You took it for granted, never accepted it and never appreciated it. You wrecked it and whats worse, is I let you.

Now whatcha gonna do
With the booze and the blush
Whatcha gonna do
When there's no rush
Cop a little misery
At the corner store
Well' one day that train of pain won't stop no more

I am recovering from everything you did to me. And I know, I know it wasn't intentional. I know you just are who you are and I believe we never were a good match. I know you are a good man. I know you love our children. You just weren't a good husband for me. But I am recovering. I am learning my worth as a woman. I am finding my thoughts, emotions and interests hold value.

Throwing up ashes on the floor
If this is a lesson in love
Well what's it for?
The heart will remember
The burning fire
The next time you feel the flame
Of desire

So why were we together for so long? More than a third of my life, thus far. Was it a lesson in love? Why? Why should anyone have to go through that and come out as damaged, broken and lonely as I am? And now my hurt is turning into anger. I am so angry. I was a good woman and while I see some of that woman left in me, I want to know how I will ever be as good to another man as I was to you. I feel like you broke me. You ran me through the wringer and now I am garbage and will never be good for anyone. While I think I will recognize it when I find a man that loves me, I know for damn sure my heart will remember the pain and lonliness and neglect that came along with it. And I don't know if I will be able to let him in. And that really sucks for him and sucks even more for me because I have earned the privilege of being loved. Being truly loved. Cared for. Appreciated.

So now I rebuild. I hope that I find a way to heal and learn to be accepting of the idea that someone can love me, treat me well and want me for who I am. I think that I'll make it. Amazingly enough, when I search my heart I know that I am less cynical than I once was. I know I am more open, positive and fearless than I was, and about a lot of things. Life gave me that. Living and feeling life as it came, gave me that. But love scares me. The only reason I keep holding on to that, is that I know being scared? That's not the same as being afraid. But thats a whooooollllle 'nother topic.

Dear Dad...

I am amazed by some of the things that remind me of you. What's more amazing are the things that send me into a sudden panic of overwhelming emotion as I remember I won't ever hear your voice again. I won't ever be sitting in a room with you watching tv and you'll randomly reach out your hand, index finger pointed and wait for me to touch my finger to yours.

Emma made me a bracelet today. It has her name on it. She gave it to me because the necklace she made me for Mother's Day this year gets caught up on things at work and she wanted me to have something special that reminds me of her when I can't be with her. I have stickers the boys gave me that I keep on my serving book. She is so beautiful, Dad. And wonderfully thoughtful and considerate. She is growing up so fast and the days where I sat for weeks rocking her in that awful green recliner at CHW long gone. She is unbelievably smart. And so observant. And when she laughs my whole heart swells with pride at this intelligent, charming, funny, beautiful little girl I've made. She is amazing, Dad, and I know you'd be so proud of the little woman she is becoming.

I miss you sometimes when I look at her. You and I went through so much, through her.

I wish you knew Ryan and Logan more. They were so little when you died. Ryan has a smile that just floors me. He LOVES car and trucks and he has one of the best imaginations ever. He is becoming very acclimated to the water. I wish you could see the way he jumps into the pool now; fearless. He will do just about anything to make someone laugh-regardless of the possible consequences for inappropriate behavior. You'd love it. Remember when you taught him to put things in his pockets, but didn't tell me you'd done so and for about a month I couldn't figure out why I was constantly finding rocks and woodchips and paper clips and melted crayons in my dryer? He still does that, but now its HotWheels cars, golf balls, spy watches and coins. I know enough now to always check his pockets.

Logan. Sweet, Logan. He is a riot. You never knew anything about him, really. He was just a baby. He is...amazing, just as Emma and Ryan are. He is seriously convinced that he is Spiderman and that I am a super hero, too. His eyes are little pools of love that I drown in. He approaches life head on. He says, 'hello' to strangers, runs with the big kids on the playground and says THE darnedest things. He will descend a staircase holding my hand and when he gets to the 3 to last step he will stop and say, "A one, a two, a 3, 4, 5, 6!" and jump to the landing below. I see God's love through that little boy every day.

I wish you were here to know them. To see them grow. They are my legacy, all I have. I am so proud of them. They are all so unbelievably smart. They're funny. They're sweet, loving and kind.

I miss you. I feel so alone without you. You and I shared so many things, personality wise, that I don't share with anyone else. Some of my favorite things about myself I shared with you. Its difficult to appreciate them now that you're not here. I hope that heaven is a place where you can see how wonderful your grandkids are; see how happy they make me.

Missing you is the hardest thing in my life. Out of all the dad's in the world, I'm so glad God gave me you.

Happy Father's Day.

Love,
KB

I Don't Make ANY Sense These Days...

I always wanted to be THAT woman that THOSE men fell in love with. You know the girl. Like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's. The one with those quirky-awesome personality traits that she doesn't even realize she possesses. I wanted to be smart and witty and irrestitably mysterious and never realize how amazingly beautiful I was. The woman men like Billy Joel write about. The fact of the matter is, I am so not Audrey Hepburn or Christie Brinkley. I always thought I would have a man like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.

Wait. Wait. WAIT. Backup. I am not comparing 2 hookers to the woman I wanted to be and that's just wrong. I didn't want to be a hooker. I just...I guess I always had this view of who I was going to be and who I was going to be with in my head. When I made the decision to divorce my husband and make a new, better life for myself I saw myself finally growing into the form of this woman I had been aspiring to be for so long. And then I saw myself with a man that saw and appreciated all that growth and struggle and journey I had been on to become her. I thought that I would meet a few men, hate their lack of things I knew I needed or wanted, become bored and move on.

I didn't think I would meet someone immediately that listened to what I said, admired me when I was doing simple things. Someone that saw me as all the things I wanted to be seen as and did it in such a way that you never once thought he was anything but genuine and sincere in his actions and thoughts.

The horrible part of it is that I met that man and I am too damaged and too lost in a horrible sea of self laothing that I can't be for him all the things I wanted to be. I need time to be independent. Time to take care of myself. Time to date and learn and be so sure of everything I want in a man that when I see it staring me in the fucking face I do everything I can to keep it and him in my life. I need to live alone (with my kids, obviously, but apart from a man). I need to see myself as all the things I always wanted to be (or at least appreciate the woman I am, regardless of who exactly that woman may be) and then I can maybe be enough for someone else.

What I defintely do not want is to be the woman that defines herself by the man she's with. I am not her. But I want to be the woman a man hopes to define himself through.

I Pray...

I came home from work tonight to all my babies tucked safely in their beds and sleeping peacefully. For the first moment in 9 months my life feels at ease. My prayer for tonight is that the time between these moments lessens. I know I am blessed in the greatest sense of the word and I know God has a plan for me and my kids. I pray I can weather the distance between these moments with grace, strength and courage. I pray that all the steps I have taken to better our lives pay off and I become a woman of great character. I pray that my children grow into thoughtful individuals that stick up for those weaker than them, possess true intergity and confidence. I pray that all of this comes sooner than later. I pray I become the kind of mother my kids admire. I pray God guides me down the path, not of least resistance, necessarily, but hopefully with a few less obstacles than we've faced thus far. This is my prayer.

Amen.

Just Keep Swimming...

It amazes me the link I have with my children as their mother. You always hear people talk about there being no love comparable to love a mother has for her children. You never really 'get it' though until you have your own. I love my kids so much it overwhelms me more often than not. I walked into my house last night after I got off of work and I broke down and cried. Like a LITTLE GIRL. I missed my babies. I miss them when they're not here and with my work schedule being so demanding, they're seldom here over night. I suppose I could pick them up when I get off work at night, but its always 10, 11, 12 sometimes 1am when I am leaving work and I simply don't think it good for them to be woken up, dragged to the car, driven home, carried up 3 flights of stairs and put back to bed.

So this is the sacrifice I am making right now. They are spending less time with me and me with them. That said, they are seeing their grandparents and daddy more than they ever did before and for that I think they will become very unique little people; with all the different influences they have in their lives. I guess I should be grateful that while I am working to try and make the life for us I have always wanted, they aren't staying with a stranger at a daycare facility. Now I know at some point it may come to that. When it does I will face that hurdle with the utmost care in selection process.

I am astounded daily by the way my children are growing. Not just physically, but as independent, individual little people with character and personality. I love watching them grow. Yesterday I took them to the pool at our apartment complex's clubhouse. Just the way they approached the water was so different for each of them and so comparable to the way I've seen them approach life circumstances, too.

Emma, my oldest, cautiously walked into the water and slowly down the stairs. When she got to the bottom and realized she was touching the bottom of the pool and her neck and chin were still above water, she spent the morning bouncing back and forth across the pool on her toes without fear. She knew at any moment she felt overwhelmed all she had to do was stand up and she would be safe. This is a lot how I saw her approach kindergarten this year. She started at one school in our old neighborhood and when we moved  east and she transferred schools, she did VERY well. Both times she was cautious, but curious and once she realized she was in a safe place and couldn't drown, she thrived.

Ryan, my middle boy, was a different story all together. He wasn't about to get into that pool without a hand to hold. And he straight up refused to even attempt to stand in the water because he was certain it would swallow him whole and he'd drown. He was near panic the entire time and it wasn't until we had been there for close to an hour that he relaxed and became comfortable enough to explore the water (still cautiously clinging to my neck) and eventually gained enough courage and confidence to jump from the pools edge into awaiting arms below. This is exactly how this little boy approaches life. He is NOT a fan of change and new experiences. He is very timid about new situations and has to be completely sure he will be safe before diving in. I can't say I blame him. This year has been quite tumultuous on us all.

Logan is a different story all together. My superhero lacks fear. He jumped right in! -to me, yes, but still no fear. No fear that I wouldn't catch him. Not a second thought that the water might rush up his little nose and make him cough, not a second glance at his older brother and sisters hesitation to this new adventure. He sucks up every drop of awesome that life has to offer and he seldom looks ahead past the moment hes in.

That is how I live my life now. Moment to moment. For me it isn't fearlessness. For me, its the idea that if I stop moving, stop experiencing and stop living that life will swallow me whole and I'll drown. Life is too short. I learned that the hard way and I refuse, I REFUSE, to let life pass me by. I refuse to be unhappy. I refuse to let my unhappiness influence my children. Instead, I want to pursue happiness and in that pursuit, build and develop my character and in turn influence the people my little ones will become. The irony of this all that I never saw coming though, is how much they influence me. They are turning my weaknesses slowly into my strengths. Lack of patience may be my biggest flaw, but I have more of it than I once did because of them.

Our road has been a long and hard one. Some of it chosen, most of it out of our control. We've walked it, run, tripped, fallen and every time gotten back up. I've been asked how I do it, how I continuously seem to draw the short stick and keep going. I really don't know what answer people are expecting from me, but my answer is always the same, "There isn't another option."

The biggest blessing I have been given is that of my babies and if they are all I ever do with my life, I am the richest woman in the world.

"Do not ask that your kids live up to your expectations.  Let your kids be who they are, and your expectations will be in breathless pursuit. "

TWM...Systems...

"The human body is made up of systems that keep it alive. The one that keeps you breathing, the one that keeps you standing, the one that makes you hungry, and the one that makes you happy. They're all connected, take a piece out and everything else falls apart. And it's only when our support systems look like they might fail us that you realize how much we depended on them all along." -Meredith



Well doesn't that just say it all?

Splendid Isolation?...

I've had a lot of random thoughts polluting my mind and clouding my usually rational way of thinking as of late. There have been many topics of which I have wanted to write about, reflect on and share. Part of my delay in doing so is (as pathetic of an excuse as it may seem) my serious lack of time. Another reason is my inability to relate my thoughts in written form. A third reason is my fear of being judged negatively.
I found it hysterically pathetic and depressing when tonight I came home, set my Pandora to 'QuickMix' (the Pandora version of the shuffle feature) and the first song to play was Warren Zevon's 'Splendid Isolation'.

And that's just the kind of contradicting craziness my head has been lost in the last few weeks.

#TWM...Letting Go...

"It's one of those things that people say, you can't move on until you let go of the past. Letting go is the easy part, it's the moving on that's painful. So sometimes we fight it, try and keep things the same. Things can't stay the same though. At some point, you just have to let go. Move on. Because no matter how painful it is, it's the only way we grow." -Meredith

No Expectations...

Why did God send me you? Why did our paths cross? Did I gain or lose something in our time so far that has gone unnoticed by me? Being a firm believer of everything happens for a reason, you would think I wouldn't feel the need to have answers to these questions. I usually don't need to know. I may struggle with worry and stress over one topic for a short while, but in the end I let it go because I know I don't have control over most things. I never need to know because I have faith. The utmost faith. Faith stronger than I ever thought possible. I have to. At the end of the day, faith is all I have. Its all one should ever need. Then why can't I let it go, knowing what I do about faith? Why can't I just let it play out? Not play out? 


Maybe its nothing. Maybe you were simply here to do something that has already been done that I didn't even see happen...but if that's the case then why do I have this tugging in the back of my brain when I think about you? In my heart when I dream about you? Why, even when I try to push your existence under and let you drift away, do you always resurface? 


The dream is just that, a dream. I know that. I have never lived in Fantasy Land. I lost my belief in Prince Charming, white horses and glass slippers by the time I turned 15. But still you're here. It's not that I even think your existence in my life is for the purpose of romance or love at all. I really don't.


The reality is cruel. Harsh. Unfair. Life is all those things. The dreamer in me desperately wants to kick the shit out of the realist I am. Even knowing the reality of it all, I still cling to that possibility and am willing to take the chance. I don't see any reason not to. 


I am at a position in my life where taking a risk such as the one we've posed isn't going to be much of a risk at all. I have no expectations. No expectations. I simply have this tugging in my head and in my heart and that's all I know. Right now, its enough. 

TWM...Decisions...

"You can seek the advice of others, surround yourself with trusted advisors. But in the end, the decision is always yours and yours alone. And when it's time to act and you're all alone with your back against the wall, the only voice that matters is the one in your head. The one telling you what you already knew. The one that's almost always right." -Meredith

I. Love. This. Quote. My life has had so much bad and crazy in it lately. All I see it stemming back to is the choices I've made. But I am learning that those choices have given me so much good, too. I am learning that not every man in this world is without romance. I am learning that being a mom is truly even more difficult than working a job, or two in the cases of many these days. I am learning to be a better mom by being away from my precious little babies. I am learning, slowly, that I don't have to let others dictate how I feel about myself. I am beginning to remove myself from situations that arise and people that create un-wanted and un-needed drama. I am (finally) becoming the woman I always knew was inside of me. I know I will never stop growing and learning. I am just so happy that I am finally beginning to take control of my life. MY life. Its an amazing feeling.

Comatose...

Working two jobs, being a mom, moving into a new home and dealing with the stress February/March brings to my life is exhausting. I'm checking out until April...you know...unless I have something terribly fricking brilliant to say between now and then. Which is a good possibility considering I am the epitome of crazy awesome.

TWM...The Late But Oh-So-Appropriate Version...

"Actually finding out that you've been looking at things wrong all along can be sort of liberating and suddenly you see new potential...new possibilities, where you'd never seen them before and that's all fine when a hopeless situation suddenly looks good. Unfortunately, sometimes it goes the other way. -Meredith"

March FUCKING First

March 1, 2009
In hindsight the date isn't ever as important as the event that took place that day, but no one ever realizes that unless they were a part of it. It's funny because aside from the birth of my three children, there really isnt any other date in my life that sticks out with any real significance like this one does. I often forget the date of my wedding anniversary. I have no idea the date I first met my ex. Our first kiss? I was 17 and thats all I know. It amazes me that the things we, as a race, tend to remember are the negative parts of life. We seldom remember the stories of passion and inspiration. Instead we remember heartbreak and despair. Pain. We forget the times friends and family treated us well and instead know exactly how often they failed our expectations of what we thought they should be to us.

March 1, 2012
Read this passage today. This was the passage I was suppose to read at my dad's service. I was unable to do so because of my own emotional incapacities. Today is the 3 yr 'anniversary' of my dad's death. This day brings many emotions for me...and this year in particular has been extraordinarily...different.

Anyway, barring any bias, I think the following is great wisdom and you would all do yourselves well to live this way.

Ecclesiastes 7

Wisdom for Life

 ¹ A good reputation is more valuable than costly perfume.
      And the day you die is better than the day you are born.
 ² Better to spend your time at funerals than at parties.
      After all, everyone dies—
      so the living should take this to heart.
 ³ Sorrow is better than laughter,
      for sadness has a refining influence on us.
 ⁴ A wise person thinks a lot about death,
      while a fool thinks only about having a good time.
 ⁵ Better to be criticized by a wise person
      than to be praised by a fool.
 ⁶ A fool’s laughter is quickly gone,
      like thorns crackling in a fire.
      This also is meaningless.
 ⁷ Extortion turns wise people into fools,
      and bribes corrupt the heart.
 ⁸ Finishing is better than starting.
      Patience is better than pride.
 ⁹ Control your temper,
      for anger labels you a fool.
 ¹⁰ Don’t long for “the good old days.”
      This is not wise.
 ¹¹ Wisdom is even better when you have money.
      Both are a benefit as you go through life.
 ¹² Wisdom and money can get you almost anything,
      but only wisdom can save your life.
 ¹³ Accept the way God does things,
      for who can straighten what he has made crooked?
 ¹⁴ Enjoy prosperity while you can,
      but when hard times strike, realize that both come from God.
      Remember that nothing is certain in this life.

I love you, Daddy.

TWM...Easing the Pain...

"We're always looking for ways to ease the pain. Sometimes we ease the pain by making the best of what we have. Sometimes its by losing ourselves in the moment. And sometimes all we need to do to ease the pain is call a simple truce." -Meredith

I honestly couldn't have found a more perfect quote for today's TWM post. All I am doing right now is trying to ease the pain. I know being that its February, one may assume the pain is related to that, what this month leads up to for me, for my family. It isn't, though. Right now its more about wanting what I can't have. Normally, I would find a way to get it. I'm stubborn, ornery and refuse to be told what I can and cannot have or do. I am struggling to come to a conclusion of what the right answer is on this particular subject and what I have to do to get what it is I am fairly certain I want. And to do it without leaving myself vulnerable, because, well, fuck THAT. I'm not ready to put all of myself out there only to be hurt. It took years of emotional abuse and suffering to build these walls. I won't let them down for just anything. Or just anyone.

So I guess right now that is what I am trying to do. I am trying to ease the pain of what having those huge walls is causing me not to allow myself to feel. I am making the best of what I have with the mental and emotional tools I have to work with. I am beginning to occasionally allow myself to be lost in the moment. I think that's all I can do to keep myself from drowning right now.

Fuck February...

February fucking sucks. I don't hate a lot of things. Not REALLY, anyway. February is one of them, though. Even the name makes me want to punch puppies in the face. February. Blah. It tastes like acid in my mouth. Its really no secret that of all the months in the year, this 28 day (or sometimes 29-which is another reason I hate this month-why the hell does it get to choose how many days it has???) block is my least favorite. I always get sick in February and so far I have been sick the whole month. The time without sunlight becomes more than draining for me.  I feel like each passing minute of darkness is literally eating away at my soul.

Speaking of souls reminds me of soul mates. I think I found mine. He shares all the same sentiment about February as me and I am super jealous I didn't make this video first.

Fuck off, February. You suck.

Attitude...

There are all different kinds of people in this world. There are people that know what they want and are satisfied once they have it. Then there are people that think they know what they want, get it, and need more. Their wants change. Or shift. The perpetually unsatisfied, as I call them. I am of the later of the two. I got married, wanted kids, had three, was a stay-at-home-mom for 6 years, decided I had made some mistakes, took the steps to correct those mistakes and move on.

Now I am a single mom of three intelligent, funny, kind, caring, beautiful kids that, even when behaving like total asses, are the center of my universe. I now work 2 jobs outside my home. I have a man that is interested in me (and no, people, I am not ANY where near ready for anything like that. Fuck. I am still married and to a man that despite his complete failure to satisfy my needs as my husband, still holds-and most likely always will-a small piece of my heart). I've gone from being with my kids nearly 24/7, with the exception of the 2 nights a week and every other weekend they're with their daddy, to seeing them only evenings. And yes, that will change in a few weeks. While I finished training for Job1, I started training for Job2. So I am now juggling regular shifts at Job1 with the 6 day, 6 hour days, training schedule at Job2. Once training for Job2 is completed, I will only be working there 1 day a week and then working 5-6 shifts at Job1. Pair all that with the 3 kids' school schedules, finding care between their dad and my mom's work schedules and having time to feel like an individual for 5 minutes is a full time job in itself. Fuck me. Even writing about it all is exhausting.

I knew I needed change. I am happy with the changes I have made in my life. I am, for the first time in my 27+ years, hopeful for the possibility of happiness in my future. I think I now know why. For a long time I was the definition of a 'pessimist'. Then I changed. I am not entirely sure when, or how, or why. I just know I did. I kept my cynical way of viewing the world. I lost the pessimism though. I know that may be confusing. I like to think of myself as a 'cynical optimist' (yeah, I bet you like that. I coined that shit and don't forget it!). There is a sign that hangs at Job2 in 2 different places (I should probably mention that Job2 is a job I held for nearly 2 years from the time I was 18 until I was 20. Also, both of my jobs are serving positions at well known chain restaurants) and the part of this sign that has always stuck out to me reads this, "We cannot change our past. We cannot change that people act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have and that is our attitude." This struck me particularly hard today, for some reason.

I know the life I have chosen is once again the more difficult path. I just think some of us are cut that way. Molded to do better with harder. After all, not every woman (or man) possesses sheballs like mine. Not everyone can adapt to change easily and not everyone craves it like I do. God cut me from a different cloth, I think. And I know, and firmly believe that He will never give me more than I can handle.

It's A Matter Of Trust...

Have you ever had one of those days where you are so exhausted with life that you don't know whether or not in the next moment you will bust into a spurt of uncontrollable laughter or a pathetic ball of sobbing tears? Yes, that is a fucking rhetorical question. Of course you have. If not, then I can safely assume you've been in a coma since you were about 9 years old.

I hate February. If you want to know why, read Is It April Yet? I always make it through, mostly. I lose a few more pieces along the way and at the same time fill voids I didn't know existed. I guess I do that by allowing myself to finally feel and heal. What's different this time around is that while I am under a lot more life stress than usual with the 2 new jobs, the divorce and now all 3 kids in school...not to mention living with my brother whom refuses to even acknowledge my existence...I now have a much stronger support team in my life than I ever had in the previous years.

I miss the shit out of my dad. Every fucking day. He was my best friend. We shared everything and yet, the day he died we had so many unresolved issues between us...

We had a song or to, as most daddy/daughter relationships do. One of them was the song he chose to dance to with me on my wedding day (which, ironically, happens to be the song that played the moment I gained the courage necessary to follow through with leaving my husband). The other is a Billy Joel song, yes, Vagmate, go figure, right? Anyway, I really didn't want to bore you with another long set of song lyrics, so here's my favorite verse that Dad always use to squeeze my hand at when it played. You can clicky-the-linky-thingy if you want to hear the whole song, which may or may  not work. I can't figure this fucking thing out right now.

I know you're an emotional girl 
It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world  
I can't offer you proof  
But you're going to face a moment of truth  
It's hard when you're always afraid  
You just recover when another belief is betrayed
So break my heart of you must, It's a matter of trust

Happy fucking February, bitches. Thanks for sticking with me. 

A Few of My Favorite Things...

Remember that time I made a list of shit that makes me happy? Well I think its time I make another one, as I found myself smiling at almost everything today, despite the fact that my offspring are behaving like total shitbricks (a trait they obviously did not inherit from me). Some of these may be repeats from my last favorite things post, but I'm too lazy to go back and look that up, so, oh well.

Coffee. Hot, steamy, dark, strong coffee. It tastes particularly amazing at about 2:30 in the afternoon.

The scent of my babies noggins after I've bathed them. And I specify with after I'VE bathed them because I use products that smell truly amazing. Good shampoo, conditioner and shea butter lotion. Decadent.

Well prepared food. I don't just mean 'good' food. I mean well prepared. Where thought, love, attention and passion go into the preparation of it. One can make a very simple meal but if it is prepared with care? I swear it tastes better.

The smell of a good man. Not cologne. Blech. There is nothing more nasally assaulting that a whiff of 99% of the shit men my age seem to enjoy drenching themselves in. But soap? Laundry, bar, face, body. Just soap. There is nothing more intoxicating than inhaling the smell of a good, clean, man.

Peanut butter. The taste, the smell, the texture. Ok, so the FAT isn't too appealing, but who hasn't thoroughly enjoyed a spoonful of peanut butter and a glass of milk??? If you haven't, you're not living right.

Puppies. I know, I know. I hate kittens and their adult counter parts. I'm not even particularly a fan of dogs anymore. But puppies? Oh I just can't get enough of them!

Running. Outside. There is no better way for me to release tension, aggression,  frustration, excitement, anxiety, stress...all of it, than to get my ass on the move and pound it out on the pavement. I start every run with the one song that puts me into a meditative state of mind and by the time it finishes playing, my legs are warm and practically melting into the asphalt with every step.

Random texts about everyday shit from someone I care about. It says I am being thought of and there is nothing that lifts me up more than knowing I am on someone's mind as much as they are on mine.

Sitting at the bottom of the shower and letting the hot, nearly scalding, water wash over me. Its almost therapeutic and soul cleansing at times. I don't know what it is about the feel of the drops on my skin and the gentle sound of the water splashing against the tub that soothes me. I suppose its the same reason I have always loved to lay in bed listening to the rain.  Also why I love laying on a quiet beach in the sun listening to the waves roll against the sand. There is something almost sexy and definitely peaceful about the sound of water.

Well fitting jeans. I love a pair of jeans that fits just so.

Having my hair brushed, stroked, cut, colored...just touched, really. It ranks right up there with the sounds and feel of water. I love that my daughter is in a phase where she will sit and play with my hair forever if I let her.

The satisfied grunt-and-sigh that comes from someone who's belly has just been filled with something I've cooked. I am truly happy in the kitchen or at the grill. I love hearing that grunt from a full, happy, belly and the sigh that says, 'SATISFIED'.

Clean sheets. Period.

Happy Saturday morning, bitches! I hope you find as much joy in the little parts of your life as I do mine.

#TWM...Life is a gift. Accept it...

Your life is a gift. Accept it, no matter how screwed up or painful it seems to be. Some things are going to work out as if they were destined to happen. As if they were just meant to be. -Meredith

March 1st will mark 3 years since I lost my dad, the man that was the rock in my life, to leukemia. The very last thing he said to me, just hours before he died was, "Life has a funny way of working out, KB." At the time I thought he meant 'funny' as a bad thing. His way of referring to the fact that he was indeed going to die, despite the extraordinary efforts put into saving his life. I now believe differently. I believe now, after 3 very painful years where I have made so many mistakes-mistakes I now know were necessary for my growth into a better, more mature, more thoughtful and reserved person-I believe now that what he meant was despite all the horrible fucking things that happen in this life, happiness is still possible. After moving on, healing and becoming whole again, happiness DOES exist. It can exist in even the most cynical of hearts and minds.

I believe that good or bad, all things happen for a reason and I believe what you gain in the end of it all is definitely a positive. Always a positive, even if you don't see it. Because some things? Some things work out as if they were just meant to be.

The One Where I Ramble...Again...About Stuff...

I always had this dream of a perfect date. The ultimate romantic weekend. It started with this gorgeous, out-of-my-league man, a trip downtown for a long, fancy dinner at a gorgeous, extravagant restaurant where we're dressed to the nines, in a corner booth...all the bells and whistles I have never had the opportunity to experience. Husband never took me out like this. Never planned special outings. Nothing fun and fancy. So I always fantasized about what it would be like to be truly taken out.



Well, I can say I have had this dream ALMOST come true. Every 6 months I go to a lunch at Russian Tea Time with my mom, my aunt and my aunt's sister (who you think I would also call 'aunt', but my actual aunt isn't actually my aunt, so her sister isn't my aunt...fuck it. To make it simple, I go with my mom, my Aunt Carol and my Aunt Laurie. Got it?). We have a very, very, very long lunch that includes about 3 flights of vodka, 2-3 appetizers, an entree, pickles, pumpernickel bread, we toast in Russian and I am too fucking tired to look that shit up and link you...wait, ok, I'm not. I'll do it. Nope. Never mind. Don't know how to say it. But it sounds something like.... "Nastrovia". Whatever, I'm a fucktard, but that is as much as you'll get outta me.

Mmmmm...vodka flight...

Mmmm...yummy...

Any fucking day later, after we have our awesome lunch we walk over to to Garrett's because, HELLO? Best. Popcorn. EVER. Chicago mix. Then after that, we go somewhere else fancy and elite and AWESOME for more cocktails. The first time we went to the Palmer. We sat in the lobby and watched people. It was the night before the 'Royal Wedding' so they were doing all kinds of prepping for some middle of the night fucking celebration they were having, and the entire place smelled like flowers and vanilla. It was wonderful.

Lobby of the Palmer. Don't you feel regal just looking at that picture?!

The second time we needed a plan. My suggestion was the Signature Lounge, after Garrett's, of course. We arrived right as the sun was just fucking BLINDING coming through the windows, BUT, we scoped it out, got the BEST table and watched the sunset from 96 floors up. It was INCREDIBLE. After enjoying some of their very different signature martinis, Aunt Carol and Aunt Laurie hopped in a cab to head back to Indiana. Mom and I stumbled our way back to the train station, laughing hysterically the entire way.

Me, Aunt Carol, Mom and Aunt Laurie. September 2011.

Aunt Laurie and I in the Signature Lounge. See how fucking BLINDING that sun was?

The sun finally went down. That's my city. Isn't it beautiful?

I love these dates with these three, very amazing, women. I wish we had them more frequently, but then again if we did, I don't think they'd be so special to me. Someday I hope I find a man that thinks enough of me to take me out for weekends like on occasion. There are plenty of wonderfully romantic days to be had in Chicago and the possibilities are truly endless. One place I want very badly to stay is the Drake.

Isn't it fabulous?!

I LOVE this picture...Wow. To be THAT elegant and graceful?? Gorgeous.

My hope is that one day I will find a man that thinks I am worthy of being wined and dined once in a while. One thoughtful enough to plan getaways like this. Bottom line, I guess, is that if he doesn't than I know he isn't good for me. If I never find that man, I always have Mom, Aunts Carol and Laurie and Russian Tea Time.

TWM...Understanding...

"You have to go back to the beginning to understand the end." -Teddy

Too Late To Wait...

And if I stumble
And if I stall
And if I slip now
And if I should fall
And if I cant be all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me
-Alexi Murdoch

The above are lyrics to a song from my favorite movie (or one of many), Away We Go. There is a wonderfully sentimental story I could tell you about the first time I watched this movie, alone and sobbing. Then immediately watched it again with Husband when he arrived home late that night and again, sobbed. All you really need to know is it is a movie that speaks to my heart and will forever be a favorite of mine. It is one of those movies that is made even better by a lyrically fabulous soundtrack. The lyrics posted above are ones that from that very first viewing stuck in my head.

I always felt like I was falling behind. Behind everyone. My husband, my family, my peers, co-workers, friends...everyone. That I never really fit in with any of them because I was someone that lived with her heart on her sleeve. I felt everything, right there, on the surface. I was emotional. Passionate. I have become much more guarded over the years for various reasons. There is a very thick wall around my heart and I have no intentions of ever letting anyone break through it.

I use to pray, constantly, to God to please, please not let my husband ever leave me if I fell behind him. If I wasn't enough for him. If I became too depressed, too scared, too broken to be everything I felt he wanted me to be. "Please," I would plead, "please just let him wait for me. Wait until I can be who he wants. Don't let him stop loving me." When I came to the realization that I would never be the woman he wanted me to be and that he would never be the man I wanted him to be, it never even occurred to me that maybe, MAYBE over the years he DID see himself failing me as a man. As my husband. Maybe he was pleading, in his own way, for me to wait for him. For him to change. For him to learn to love me the way my heart needs to be loved.

Of course if he did he never communicated those wishes to me. Ever. That is one area I think he will never quite excel in- communication. I can't be sure this was ever something he felt or thought. What I do know is when he took our kids for dinner last night while I was at work, he had my car and he changed the CD in the player to the above one and to the above song. When I got in my car to take Logan to school this morning, this was the song I heard. I doubt this was intentional on his part. I don't know for sure, of course. In any event, it made me wonder. Maybe, just maybe, he has realized his faults. His shortcomings. The part his behavior towards me played in the demise of our marriage. Maybe. Maybe it wasn't just me.

Or maybe like most things in life, it was a pure coincidence.

I'll Go To My HS Reunion...But Only With My Vaggie On My Right Arm and A Bottle In My Left...

I got this Facebook message tonight from my high school class president. *I want to note that I realize a lot of my FB friends read my blog and, duh, most of them are my former classmates. That said, none of what follows is meant in anyway to offend or hurt the feelings of any of them. If it does, grow a pair of she balls and get the fuck over it.* Anyway, the message was an invite to my ten year reunion coming up this summer. I find pure hilarity in the fact that it was sent via FB. I would hope this was intended as more of a save-the-date type thing and an actual invite is to come via snail mail. I mean for the love of Christ. This is not BumFuck, ID, its fricking Crystal Lake, IL. I went to a high school where the student parking lot was FULL of new cars. Most of the kids drove nicer cars than the teachers. I, of course, drove a 1993 Pontiac Sunbird. When that died my senior year I then drove a '91 Olds Cuts Supreme, cuz I was a pimp and shit. Anyway, back to all this freaking comedy I find too freaking hilarious. So I get this invite via the Facebook and then I start laughing hysterically because anyone that knows anything about me realizes there is no possibility of my going anywhere NEAR my high school reunion. I fucking hated that shit when I was there. I got out a semester early. Would it not have broken my dad's heart I sure as shit wouldn't have attended my graduation ceremony.

I have this feeling that this thing is really just a way for all the successful, pretentious assholes that actually did something with their lives to show up and behave like successful, pretentious assholes in front of all of us fuck-ups. Which is fine. I'm not jealous of their success. Not really. I mean, most of the men probably bang their secretaries on the side and neglect their wives. Most of the women probably have herpes. I bet few of them are as awesome as me. I'll be all, "Oh yeah, I dropped out of college, got married way too young, had babies way too early, stayed home with my kids, decided after a decade together I was better off divorcing my husband and moving back home to the house I grew up in and waiting tables like I did when I was 19. No, I'm definitely not a fuck-up. I'm just a late-bloomer."

So in all my rage filled, self hate, woe-is-me, pity party moment of bitterness, I then had the. most. brilliant. idea. EVER. If you follow me on Twitter or happen to be my FB friend you know all about my #vagemate, our #vaglove and our hatred for kittens. I am willing to bet she thinks crotch rot is more appealing than a high school reunion, too. But THEN I thought, HOLY SHIT. It would be the best time EVER if she came WITH ME.

*BY THE WAY. If you don't know my vagmate, Gucci, go check her out. You'll totally understand why I love her and why we get along so freaking well.*

So, vaggie. Whaddya say? August. We'll call it, "Vagmates High School Reunion". OR "Gucci Does Crystal Lake". Hahaha...ha..ha...oh my. Of course they'll be paying us to party at the Bee while you're in town, too. Your ute will be good and healed and He Gucci and She Gucci can come chill with my wee ones. Emma and He Gucci will probably get married one day any how. Oh yes. This will be epic.